


The smallest coffins are the heaviest

by emeraldfrog3



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 00:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5890702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldfrog3/pseuds/emeraldfrog3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaitlyn Cousland Theirin mourns the loss of her first child.<br/>This was inspired by a six word story that so potently expresses what so many know to be true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The smallest coffins are the heaviest

Kaitlyn sat with her head in her hands at the back of the Chantry. The tears had stopped sometime near when the candles had burned down. Somehow, Teagan had kept the nobles out of this.

Out of her grief.

Out of Alistair’s grief.

Alistair. He had been as supportive as he could, but he didn’t understand. He couldn’t know what it was like to feel…

She sobbed. Tears started to flow again.

“In the long hours of the night when hope has abandoned me,” she softly sung through the tears. “I will see the stars and know your Light remains.” The words felt stale in her mouth.

She had held their babe in her hand. He had been perfectly formed, but so small. So delicate. He hadn’t been strong enough to withstand the taint in her veins.

Kaitlyn had felt his life go still, his little kicks and pushes simply stopped. The midwife said it could happen sometimes, but she could feel the dread building even then.

When the pain and the blood started, it was a nightmare, worse than anything she had endured during the blight. While she still carried him there was hope, but her early labour had thrown her into despair.

Her son.

Their son.

She let her hand trace the outline of the tiny coffin.

“I cannot see the path. Perhaps there is only abyss. Trembling, I step forward, in darkness enveloped.” She chanted once more as she wiped her face dry. Of all the death and darkness she had been through, she did not know if she could survive this one.

Strong arms wrapped around her, a calloused hand resting on hers.

Kaitlyn turned and pressed her face into her husband’s chest, hiding another sob there. Alistair’s broken baritone picked up the verse.

“Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker’s Light and nothing that he has wrought shall be lost.”

They stood together in the Chantry as the echoes faded with the heaviest burden either of them had ever had to bare.

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics from the Chant of Light: The Canticle of Trials 1:2 and 1:13-14


End file.
